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Imin_Prayer"Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and your plans will succeed." June 28 MovingThanks for coming by to visit my space! I know a few of you come regularly to check out what I've written. Thank you for your frequent and encouraging comments. Right now, I'd like to let you all know that I've moved to a new space. I'm rebuilding a similar format, and will be writing new things every so often just like I have been here. (And, as always, I'm trying to make it more regular that I post new articles!) So, if you'd like to pop in for a visit, come on over to: http://wrider.blogspot.com/ "See" you soon! June 12 Repentance Bridge“Hang on!” Eric could feel Ross’ hand slipping from his grasp. The
protruding tree root that his legs were wrapped around was the only
thing keeping him from plummeting into the deep ravine with his friend.
Laying on his stomach headfirst at he cliff’s edge gave him a much too
clear look at the danger. “Let go of the bag and give me your other
hand.” Eric saw Ross hesitate. The precious bag held what had led them here in the first place. A treasure. But Ross valued his life more at this point. Gold and jewels sailed into the ravine, never to be seen again. Ross groped for Eric’s hand, and held on as he was dragged up onto solid ground. Both young men were sweaty and breathing heavily, but had little time to recover. The dense jungle foliage rustled with the running feet of the Tribe. “They’re still coming,” Eric warned in a whisper. “We have to get out of here.” Ross reached for his machete, but it was gone. He’d lost it over the edge. “Which way?” Sweat poured from Eric’s brow as he grabbed his Guidebook. It was their only hope of finding the way to Repentance Bridge. Eric found the map and ran his finger along the trail. “We have to follow Vanity Ravine. Once we get over this mountain, it’s just a few more miles until we reach the bridge.” “Do you think we can make it?” “We have to.” Concern laced Eric’s words. He and Ross both knew the severity of the situation. They had crossed into the Forbidden Territory, believing that wealth and adventure awaited them. The Maker had told them about the dangers and temptations. He had explained that once someone crossed over, it was difficult to return. But Eric and Ross had laughed off the warnings. They had been sure that the other side was better. They had been wrong. Eric picked himself up and peered through the thick brush to see the Tribe’s painted faces. They wanted their treasure back. Unfortunately for all involved, it now lay at the bottom of Vanity Ravine. If Eric and Ross were captured without the jewels in hand, they most likely wouldn’t make it out alive. “Come on,” Eric whispered. “Stay low and follow me.” The two men crept through the undergrowth, stopping every few minutes as the Tribe crossed their path. “They’re not going to give up, are they?” Ross asked quietly. Eric wanted to laugh at the question. The closer they got to Repentance Bridge, the angrier the Evil One would become. He was the ruler on this side of the ravine, and would try everything to stop the men from leaving. “There it is.” Eric followed Ross’ pointing finger and spotted Repentance Bridge. A smile creased his lips. “We did it.” Before they took another step, the ground started to shake. “What’s happening?” Ross whispered hoarsely. Eric went for his Guidebook again, and desperately searched for instruction. “It’s the volcano.” “Mount Hate? What do we do?” “We have to make a run for it. The Evil One is furious. If we don’t get to the bridge quickly, the lava will cut us off.” The path was steep, causing the men to trip and stumble. The air grew stale, and the stench of burning sulfur was suffocating. At last, Eric felt a wooden plank beneath his feet. “Fools!” Eric whirled around to face the Evil One, fear surging through his veins. “You think your Maker will want you back?” the Evil One bellowed. “After you walked away from Him?” Eric clutched his Guidebook. “He loves us.” Fire flashed in the Evil One’s eyes. “Cross that bridge, and you’ll be throwing away your dreams.” “All I found here were lies and deceit,” Eric stated boldly. “You trap lost souls here to live in an eternity of suffering, not give them their dreams. My Maker offers me more than you ever could, and I’m just sorry it took me this long to realize it.” Flames from the lava raged toward them. Eric and Ross hesitated only a moment before turning their backs on the one who offered worldly pleasure. Through the smoke, they could just make out their Maker – His arms stretched wide open. Repentance Bridge was long and narrow, swaying dangerously in the wind. But love, peace and eternal life were waiting. May 21 A Creation of GodGod’s creation, the universe: a vast array of planets, stars, moons and more, wrapped up into an even grander collage of galaxies, strung out as far as the electronic eye can see. A pure wonder to behold from the heavens, above all knowledge and imagination that our simple human minds can comprehend. And there, in the midst of it all sits a world designed for worship and praise befitting the Creator - the King Himself. A world so small within the clutches of space, and yet so loved that it is offered hope beyond compare. Starting out as clay in His hands, the world took shape. The mountains sprang up, the seas roared with new life, and the air sang with birds, stretching their wings in flight. The rolling hills were filled with lush green grass, and the valleys strewn with flowers scented to calm the weariest of souls. The beasts grew in numbers filling the land, while the rivers and lakes writhed with uncountable species. And then…God’s ultimate creation came to be- the creation that would be able to commune with Him, love Him, and honor Him. The human race, destined to disappoint their King, was given a chance despite all odds - despite the sin that crept into their weak hearts. God knew when He suspended Earth in space, that it would be filled with the fire of hate, and yet burn with love when a soul would finally see Him. God created our world despite our inadequacy, so that we might have a chance to know Him. With each new arrival of new life, God foresaw their future. He knew each step they would take, each tumble they would endure. And in this world He continued to plant hearts and minds that would carry out His ultimate purpose. Some men were created like the sunflower, standing firm and fixed only on the sun, examples of stamina and courage. Some were made to stand out as roses, shedding beauty that reflects God’s goodness, yet protecting themselves, ready to battle the foe with thorns sharpened by His hand. There were those who would strive with fellowship, as larkspur gains strength and unity planted side by side. Equipped to stand alone, some men were formed like the cactus, with a rough exterior and unattractive spines, yet daring and powerful to withstand the dry sands and heat of life. There were others, created as lilies, to bloom for a short while, giving peace, and nurturing souls with words of wisdom before leaving the world. Some were formed delicate and frail like the bleeding hearts, offering soft comfort to the weary. And still others God shaped to last, though not always in bloom, to provide hedges of protection, shade and shelter like the hastas that grow each year. With each season coming and going, God tended His garden - His love. Weeds of doubt, anger and fear crept around the roots of His beloved. Some men held fast, resisting the choking vines and shadows that blocked the sun’s warmth. While others withered, unable or unwilling to face the hardships designed to strengthen. The garden still stands today, though crowded with more weeds and flesh-eating insects than ever. Buildings tower high above our heads, and smog dirties the air. Billboards present images that leave nothing to the imagination, and filth plagues the television and magazines. Words designed to tear down and curse are hurled in every direction, reverberating even in the most resistant of ears. The flowers…God’s cherished creation…sits in a dark world, corrupt and bound for an eternity lost without Him. But still, as only a speck in the vastness of God’s great universe, the warmth of His breath can still be felt. His life-giving water still nourishes the driest of hearts. His Word can still rid the most overgrown soul of all weeds. For He knows that one day, His garden will shine again. One day, His garden will live in an eternity of peace and joy, fully enveloped in His presence, and able to see the world through His eyes. To see the galaxies spread across the great expanse…to experience the view from Heaven itself… As I bask in God’s sunlit garden, I await the day I will be chosen, taken up from this earth to rest at His feet. April 17 The Legacy of GraceI felt a tear trickle slowly down my face as Grace’s gnarled fingers gave my hand one more brave squeeze. No monitors buzzed, no strange beeps disturbed the silence. It was just what Grace wanted - to go Home without any more delay. A smile creased my lips as I remembered the first time I had met Grace. I had been alone and scared, emotionally abandoned by my family and struggling to survive. No one had cared about me…except Grace. Grace, whose eyes could pierce a steel plate, yet cradle a crying child with love. Grace, whose hands told stories of hardships, yet when mending a broken heart, were soft as a dawn’s first glow. Grace, whose bent frame and silver hair displayed survival of the darkest battles, while her laughter rang crisp and new like spring’s first rain. I looked on the frail face that mirrored tranquility itself. No one would ever have guessed the valleys she had passed through to bring her here today. Grace’s life had been wrought with trial after trial. Her own family had turned their backs on her. Sickness had plagued her body. The world had spat in her face, rejecting her in every way. But nothing had ever stifled her passion. Nothing had ever interfered with her unending kindness for the weak, her loyalty to the broken, or her faithfulness to the Lord. Grace’s life of true devotion and courage had become a source of shelter. When walking the streets, shivering in the cold, or lost on the highway bound for strife, somehow Grace’s warmth had always led me back to the welcoming kitchen that smelled of apple pie and love. She had always said it was her own tribulations that had taught her to look upon others differently than the world did. It was Grace’s faith that guided her, undaunted, through any circumstance. “Life has been hard,” she had always said. “But the Shepherd has kept me safe all my years. He has shown me miracles and wonders of His love, and He’s revealed His path to the Eternal Kingdom. I will fear no evil.” It had been through Grace’s witness that I had been led to Christ. The chains of my heart had been unlocked, the doors had been opened, and the shelves that held all my teenage years full of hate and anger had been washed clean. I had found a new family - one that would never leave or forsake me. Grace had taught me love. She had taught me peace beyond all understanding and a forgiveness like no other. She had walked through the fire of sorrow, but showed me how to find happiness in any circumstance. She had begged for mercy from God to stop the daily torment of hate towards her beliefs, and yet she showed me the true heart of a servant. She had lived, persecuted by her family for her giving spirit, but she taught me that living for God made it all worthwhile. Grace had walked through valleys that I dared not even think about. But satan had not won. I choked on a muffled sob as Grace’s hand lightly slipped from mine to rest peacefully next to her still form. I reached out to touch her soft hair one more time, and bent down to brush my lips on her cheek. She had feared no evil, and now she was Home. She was with the God whom she had given her life to so many years before. I would miss Grace - the world seemed a less cheerful place without her smile. But I knew I was not alone. God had sent Grace to me so that I might believe and share in that eternal joy. Though my mentor was gone, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the Lord was with her, and I looked forward to the day when I would pass through my own valley and see my friend’s face again. Sometimes in life, we are able to see glimpses of God's grace through His people. There are those that enter our lives, showing us the true way to live...showing us what life is really about. Let us never forget what they have taught. Let their words not be in vain. May we all be Grace's in other people's lives. Show them the love of God. Show them true peace...true joy...true grace. March 22 My GodMy God was… A new beginning, A gift unwrapped. He was the light in the dark, The key to understanding. My God was… The dream unknown, The offer of life. He was the gentle tug at my heart, A breeze to stir my soul. My God is… A hug most needed, A shoulder to cry on. He is there for me no matter what, The fuel that keeps me going. My God is… The most trusted friend, The air I breathe. He is faithfulness personified, A hope beyond all hope. My God will be… A father forever, A love everlasting. He will be my joy today and always, The source of my peace. My God will be… The light never broken, The strength beyond compare. He will be my all in all. The God of gods forever. He was… He is… He will be… My God. February 23 I am a CrossI hang delicately from a silver chain that hangs around my wearer’s neck. She dons me every Sunday to accent her fine clothes or match her quaint earrings. I glimmer in the sunlight and collect the compliments towards my beauty, from those whose eyes look for good appearance. I am a cross, whose meaning is shallow. Imprinted on a smooth leather cover, I am carried all over town, proudly displayed on an open table, a car’s dashboard, or in the hand of my carrier. The pages beneath me are never opened, keeping my looks ever new without wrinkle or crease. I show the world that a Christian character exists, even if the words inside of me go unread. I am a cross, molded by two-facedness. I stand on a pedestal before the long row of church pews. I am adorned with gold and rubies, shimmering under the lights. The faces of those who come to seek clean consciences are reflected in my glowing frame. The crowd is drawn to me as I remain an unfailing symbol of wealth. I am a cross of pride. My home is a dark pocket, shared with loose change, a broken watch and an occasional scrap of lint. Once in a while I am allowed a breath of fresh air, but only before being tossed into a jewelry box to keep company with other forgotten pieces. My days are dreary as I represent a light hidden from the world by someone more intent on being accepted than sincere. I am a cross, suffocated by fear. I cast a long dark shadow on the ground from my position on the hill. I am worn and old, yet stronger every day. My limbs are scarred with holes from brutal nails, and a twisted ring of thorns remains embedded in my fibers. A sign still hangs from my highest point to mock the One who was killed on me. I am not a beautiful sight, yet the weary find rest at my feet. I don’t reflect the sun or sing of wealth, but my stains of blood give hope to searching souls. I am not an instrument of pride, flashiness or hypocrisy. My purpose is to stand as a reminder of time past, when a Savior of the world was sacrificed upon my wood - when the earth trembled and thunder shook the skies. I remain the humble symbol of salvation to keep alive the everlasting message of the One sent by God to take away all sin. I am the cross of Jesus Christ. …Which cross do you revere? February 05 Lucifer's Battle“Sire! Your Majesty, Oh Great -” “Enough!” The dark creature trembled at the roar. “A-a-p-pologies, Your Greatness.” “What is it, Gossiper?” “I bring you news.” A smile creased Gossiper’s face as he eagerly flexed his claws. “News of him, whose name we do not speak.” “Oh?” The great body shifted in his granite throne, his yellow eyes flickering with curiosity. “Go on.” Gossiper leaned in closer. “Crucifixion,” he whispered. “That’s what they’re predicting.” “Ahh…” Lucifer stroked his black beard in thought, while stirring a stale breeze with his wings. Gossiper looked at his master’s face expectantly. “Well aren’t we…I-I mean, will we…you know…get to him first?" “Of course not!” Lucifer retorted. “Let him die on a cross! I want to see him suffer! I want to see the Creator turn his back on him for once.” He angrily spat at the floor, making the stones steam. “But…the prophecy.” “Prophecy, smophecy. It will never work.” Lucifer lit a fire in his hand, illuminating the room with an eerie glow. He stood and hurled the flaming ball to the opposite end of the hall. Sparks flew in all directions until the wall burned a dull red. Gossiper’s jaw dropped as he stared at the lifelike mural that writhed with Lucifer’s own vast collection of souls. “See that?” Lucifer asked. “That is what will make the Creator’s plan fail. He thinks he has it all under control, but this is what I have. Whatever I command, my followers obey. In no time they’ll overtake that pathetic earth and I’ll be the winner.” Lucifer sank down in his throne again, as the room returned to its original dark state. “Let him, whose name we do not speak, die. It shall be my pleasure to watch.” Gossiper swallowed hard, hesitance shaking his hideous form. “But…” Lightning flashed in Lucifer’s eyes. “But what?!” “But…the prophecy says he will rise again. Shouldn’t we kill him off ourselves to make sure it’s done right?” Lucifer laughed, sending tremors through his throne room. “He can raise others from the dead, but how can he raise himself? Even the Creator has limitations. Besides, those are my people controlling this chain of events, not the stupid prophecy. I don’t care what the prophecy says -the Creator’s plan won’t work. I’m the one in control. He, whose name we do not speak, is dying because of me, not because of any ridiculous plan. I called the shots on this one.” Lucifer continued to sit on his throne throughout the night and the next day, gazing upon the earth. The sounds of nails piercing Christ’s flesh echoed through the darkness, and the demon breathed a contented sigh. More than two days later, the grave was still silent. “It’s over!” Lucifer shouted gleefully. “I have won! The earth is mine! The Creator’s one and only is dead! I told you his plan wouldn’t work! I told you the prophecy was rubbish!” He quickly called his swarm of demons. “Come! Today we celebrate. Tomorrow we begin retrieving our plunder.” Gossiper timidly looked out to see the earth as the party raged on behind him. Something was happening. A strange wind blew, signaling death - but not a human’s death. All at once, a flash of white light temporarily blinded Gossiper, and suddenly he saw the horror he knew to be true. Fear surged through his body. Unable to control himself, he collapsed onto the floor. “Hey, Gossiper.” Deceit staggered over to the limp form. “Hey.” He kicked his fellow demon. “What’s with you?” Gossiper could only manage a whisper. “He’s back. We shall all perish now.” Deceit took a haphazard look out the window, but shrieked as he saw the truth. “No!” “What’s going on?” Lucifer joined the other two, a strange sense of fear creeping into his veins. Deceit pointed. “The Creator’s plan, my master…it has worked. He, whose name we do not speak, is walking again. And the people are following. The prophecy is being fulfilled.” Lucifer threw himself onto the floor, pounding his fist into the stones. “No! It was my plan! His can’t work! It just can’t!” Rising in a burst of anger, Lucifer halted his celebration and summoned his army. “Fine,” he seethed. “If Jesus wants a battle, he’s got one.” Gossiper looked up from the floor, still unable to move. “It’s no use,” he whispered. “Your plans will never work.” January 19 Unexpected RescueJim stared down at the rushing water, his heart seeming to beat twice as fast as the surging current. The swelling surface indicated the ripping undertow that awaited him. He held his breath and loosened his grip on the cold steel, the toes of his tennis shoes creeping towards the end of the narrow ledge. “God,” he shouted, “If you really don’t want me to die, then show me why I should live!” Nothing. The silence confirmed the emptiness he felt in his heart. A wind sent chills down his spine and he glanced from side to side, making sure no one was on the bridge but himself. As always, he was alone. Not even God seemed to be around anymore. Pulling his jacket tightly around his shoulders, Jim ignored the tear that ran down his face. Anything was better than the life he had - even death. He shivered and took a step forward, holding one foot out into oblivion. Just as he started to let himself fall, a cry for help jolted him to attention. He stepped back, his ears listening intently. Scanning the area, his eyes caught sight of a woman along the riverbank, frantically running back and forth, yelling and pointing towards the raging water. Forgetting his reason for being on the wrong side of the bridge railing, Jim suddenly spotted a pink object floating southward. All too quickly, he realized that it was a jacket, wrapped around a young child who was desperately trying to stay afloat. “Help!” The mother’s shout sent Jim’s adrenaline rushing, his mind forgetting all else. Before he could think, he was falling headfirst, his arms stretched out in a dive. The icy water was a shock to his body, and he struggled to bring himself to the surface, gasping for air. “Help me!” The little girl’s cry was stronger than the river’s current and aimed Jim to her helpless form. “Hang on!” he shouted. Turned around, pulled under and dragged along like a rag doll, Jim didn’t know how he was able to grasp the child’s hand. His arms ached, his legs went numb, and his lungs screamed for a rest. He could feel the girl pressed snuggly against his chest as he kicked and groped for land. At last, his hand reached something solid. “Come on, take a deep breath.” Jim patted the little girl’s back as he knelt beside her. He struggled to keep himself from shaking as the cold drove right to his bones. “It’s okay now, you’re going to be fine.” The girl shivered uncontrollably and wrapped her arms around his neck. “It was s-s-so scary,” she managed through tears of fright. “B-b-but you saved me. I thought I was going to-to die.” “Shh, it’s okay.” For what little good it would do, Jim took off his drenched jacket to give the child another layer of protection against the biting wind. “There now, calm down.” He could see the mother running towards them, and only then realized how far downstream they had drifted. As he held the girl close to comfort her, his heart felt as if it would burst. If he had not been on that bridge, this little girl would probably have died, robbing the world of another sweet soul. And if she had not been in the river…he would surely have died. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry.” His own inner cries reached heavenward. He had asked for a sign - had it taken something as drastic as this for him to see that God wanted him to live? Had it taken the experience of losing himself to save another to understand that he still had worth? Perhaps there was hope after all. Perhaps - “Thank you, oh, thank you!” The mother had reached them and caught her daughter up in a hug. “Oh, my baby, are you okay?” She finally seemed to notice Jim and gave him a tearful smile. “How can I ever thank you? You saved her life.” Jim stared at her in thought, and then shook his head. “I didn’t save your little girl’s life, Ma’am…she saved mine.” Is your life in turmoil? Have you felt abandoned? Worthless? Unworthy? Don't give up. God loves you, and will never stop loving you. Turn to Him now, give your life to Him, and He will give you rest beyond your wildest imagination. January 02 Changed VisionTen blocks and twelve clothing stores after the intention of some quick window-shopping, Kaylee grabbed Sandra’s arm. “Hey, I’m starving. Let’s eat here.” Sandra looked up skeptically to the bar’s neon sign. “You sure?” “Yeah! I hear they have great burgers.” Before Sandra could refuse, Kaylee pulled her into the dimly lit bar and grill. Sandra choked on the cigarette smoke and cringed at the loud music. “I don’t really like this.” “Oh, here’s a table.” Kaylee hadn’t even heard her friend’s words. After the two girls were seated, Sandra ventured several glances around the room. Chills ran down her spine as she saw a man who looked half-dead. She tried to focus on something else, but her eyes came to rest on a woman with tears streaming silently down her face. Sandra desperately looked to the bar, only to see the bartender somehow managing to clean a shot glass while shackles adorned his wrists. “Helloooo…” Kaylee waved a hand in front of Sandra’s face. “What are you eating?” Sandra suddenly realized that the waitress was standing at their table. “Um, I…haven’t decided.” She fumbled with the menu, trying not to notice the chains that hung from the waitress’ shoulders and cascaded onto the floor. “I…I think I need some fresh air.” “Sandra!” Kaylee followed her back out into the sunshine. “What is wrong with you?!” Sandra took several deep breaths to calm herself. “I saw them again…” “The crazy people?” “They’re not crazy! They’re…hurt. Chained. Dead. I don’t know. Didn’t you see them?” Kaylee looked at her friend sympathetically. “No. I saw nothing out of the ordinary. All I wanted was a cheeseburger.” Sandra threw up her arms. “My vision is screwed up and all you can think about is food!” “I think you should talk to Doctor Hughes.” “He’s your shrink!” Kaylee scowled. “He’s a doctor. Maybe he’ll know why you’re seeing things.” “I’m not seeing things. They’re real!” Tears sprang into Sandra’s eyes. “Why won’t anyone believe me? I’ve been seeing these horrible things for three years now. I can’t take it anymore!” Kaylee sighed, showing her impatience. “I tried to tell you it’s that nutty church. This all started after you got involved with that…that Bible study and started talking about God all the time.” She pointed toward the center of town. “Just go to Doctor Hughes and get some meds to clear up whatever it is that’s making you see things.” Sandra felt a whole new wave of sorrow. “But…but I love church…and God too.” “Oh, quit!” Kaylee raised her voice. “Don’t start preaching instead of admitting you have a problem. You always use your religion as some excuse, and I won’t be tricked into it, lest I start seeing weirdoes in handcuffs too!” Sandra shuddered as a heavy chain appeared around Kaylee’s neck. It twisted and writhed until it had enveloped Kaylee’s throat, threatening to choke her to death. “K-K-Kaylee!” New tears surged down Sandra’s cheeks. “This can’t be happening! Don’t let the chains kill you!” “Come on!” Kaylee felt herself over, trying to show Sandra she was in no danger. “I’m fine!” “No you’re not.” Sandra shook her head, and turned to flee, desperate for relief. “Calm down, Sandra.” Pastor John’s deep voice soothed Sandra’s shaking body as he guided her into a chair. “It happened again, didn’t it?” Sandra nodded, and blew her nose. “Yes. But it was worse this time. I saw Kaylee in trouble too.” Pastor John took a seat behind his desk and sighed. “You know why this is happening.” “But…I don’t want to believe it. There can’t be that many condemned people.” “Sandra, you know when you gave your life to Christ that you received new eyes. Your vision is different now. You’re seeing things in a whole new way.” “It hurts,” Sandra sniffed. “I know.” Pastor John nodded. “It’s not supposed to feel good.” “How do I cure myself?” “You can’t.” Pastor John smiled gently. “The only thing you can do is give those suffering souls the Key to ending their sorrow. The Key to unlock those chains that their sins and rejection of the Truth have created.” He rested a hand on his worn Bible. “Give them new vision, Sandra. Help them see God’s love.” December 18 One Year CloserMy face is filled with wonder, My nose pressed on the glass. A fog is formed as I breathe. But my excitement isn’t masked. Behind me everything is sparkling, Red and silver, green and gold. Stockings hung up by the fire, A peaceful sight to behold. While others sit and talk away, I just sit with wonder and awe. I know I’ll see him if I wait, And see what others saw. I’m urged to go upstairs to bed, But I’m too awake this Christmas Eve. They all told me the wondrous story, I can’t forget. I cannot leave. I stare up at the cool night sky, A shiver runs down my spine. I’m not sure what he’ll look like, But I know that all will be fine. They say he’ll bring all sorts of things, He represents both peace and love. They say he was born long ago, And now will come from above. I’ve seen some people dressed as him, But I’d like to see him as himself. I see him all the time in windows, Or sitting by me on a shelf. But as I stare at space itself, I dream of meeting him. I’ll fall into his hug so big, His smile brightening all that’s dim. I finally slip into my bed, Exhausted from my late night stare. Perhaps he would come in the night, And in the morning be waiting there. But just before I drift asleep, I look once more at the scene, Of Mary and Joseph and shepherds too. And the Baby that became a King. I know in my heart he’ll come again, Like all the people say. And I’ll always keep watch for his return, Just as I did today. King of Kings and Lord of Lords, He’s the perfect example of grace. This Christmas is the best of all… We’re one year closer to seeing his face. May everyone have a Christ-filled holiday season! November 21 My Melody, My ComforterWhen life’s trials drags me under, To the depths of all despair, A sweet Melody soothes my soul, Like a warm summer breeze. When the world is full of turmoil, When all seems to go wrong, A Melody falls on my ear, To quiet my aching heart. When I feel like a failure, Alone and trapped in dread, My spirit swells with joy, As the Melody passes by. When I’ve been hurt by a loved one, Betrayed and left to cry, I feel the hug of peaceful arms, The Melody dries my eyes. When all I see is fighting, When hate rings loud in the streets, A Melody shelters my heart, And fright is unknown to me. When my friends go before me, And I’m left with only memories, I am tenderly comforted, As a Melody calms my mind. When the trumpet of the Lord sounds, The earth trembling in fear, I will hear that gentle Melody, My essence wrapped in hope. When I see the earth fall away, And the world is dead and dark, A Melody will bring light to me, To bring forever bliss. When everyone around me questions, This peace that I have found, I share with them my Melody, And speak His wonderful name. November 01 From Chalk to SmilesI stared out of the window to see my daughter scribbling with her chalk on the sidewalk. Lydia had created sunshines, flowers, and some shapes that I thought were smiley faces. I was glad that her drawings reflected happiness - at least she had settled in well. But me? I sighed and continued to dry the dishes, putting them away one by one in the cupboards. No, if I were the one drawing outside, my pictures might reflect something less than happy. I’d come to the country in search of a new life. I had wanted to forget the past - the things that still stalked me in my dreams. I had just wanted to start fresh. But things had been harder than expected. So much for the romantic ideas of a secluded cottage in the countryside, accented by a white picket fence and smelling of fresh flowers. It had been more like a brick prison in the middle of nowhere, overgrown with weeds and smelling of rotten radishes - or something like that. A month later, my hands were blistered, my face was sunburned, my back felt as if it would never straighten out again, and the place hadn’t seemed to change a bit. “Lord,” I thought, “Why did You put me here anyway? Why haven’t things turned around like they were supposed to?” Before I could reflect more, a low rumble of thunder broke into my thoughts. I quickly glanced back outside as a large raindrop splattered into the window. The sun was gone, replaced by menacing clouds. “Lydia!” I called to my daughter as I rushed outside. “Come on, Sweety. It’s starting to storm.” “But Mommy, my -” I grabbed Lydia’s hand to pull her into the house. “I don’t want you getting soaked,” I chided. Lydia managed to drag her bucket of chalk along, and as soon as I’d closed the door behind us, the clouds broke loose. Rain pelted the ground in sheets, filling the sidewalk cracks and shooting out of the drain spout. Lydia and I watched out of the kitchen window, as her beautiful drawings were transformed into rivers of color that ran into the grass. Forgotten chalk sticks became mounds of mush, dissolving before our eyes. Lydia’s bottom lip trembled a little as she watched her hours of work being washed away. “I’m sorry, Honey.” I gave her a gentle squeeze. “You can always draw more pictures when it’s dry.” Lydia only nodded and exited the room to find something else to occupy her mind. Not five minutes later, the rain abruptly stopped. As if it had never started at all, the sun came out again, making the moist air warm and fresh. Lydia’s pictures had been destroyed and my housework interrupted just for that? I was finishing up the dishes and returning to my dismal thoughts of life when I heard Lydia shriek from the living room. “Mommy! Look!” I rushed into the adjoining room, confused at my daughter’s excited tone. “What? What is it?” “Look!” Lydia pointed out the window. “I found my chalk. God just wanted to play with it too!” Not knowing what to expect, I followed her pointing finger to see the most vibrant rainbow I’d ever seen. Backdropped by the dark clouds that had already passed by, the colors shone bright and clear from one end of the arc to the other. I was so captivated by the scene that it took me a moment to realize the depth of my daughter’s perception. Instead of dwelling on the fact that her artwork was gone forever, she had taken the time to look around her, see the beauty, and find the good within the situation. If my six-year-old could do that, why on earth couldn’t I? Lydia scrambled to head back outdoors, but I stayed at the window. I noticed the rolling hills, the gentle breeze, and the peace of the countryside. All at once, I knew that not only had the rainbow been meant for Lydia, but for me as well. “I’m sorry, Lord,” I silently prayed. “I know You’re here through it all and that You’ve got a plan for me. Thank You for sending this rainbow to remind me that things aren’t all bad.” Lydia had received a rainbow to let her know that things were okay despite the loss of her chalk. I had received a rainbow to let me know that things were going to be okay despite a rough start. There was good to be found here. I could depend on the Lord to see me through. October 10 What Would You Give?It was dark, but I didn’t remember seeing the sunset. All around me, people were talking and laughing, despite the long lines that I’d been standing in for what seemed an eternity. We all just wanted to get through that door. The brick building had no windows, so no one could see what went on inside. But anyone who entered eventually came out with glorious riches. Everything from diamond jewelry to speedboats. All I really knew about this event was that my friend was a millionaire now, and he’d told me that the source of his wealth would only be in town one more night. I aimlessly counted heads as the line slowly moved forward. There were still several hundred, but thankfully I was only feet from the door. As I gained a clear view of the entrance, I noticed a lone figure standing to the side who was not joining in the fun. As the man in front of me finally had his chance to open the door, the stranger laid a hand on his shoulder, stopping him just long enough to whisper in his ear. The man laughed then disappeared inside without a second thought. It would be my turn next. I could just imagine what my friends would say tomorrow when I showed up as wealthy as they. I didn’t know how all this worked, but it couldn’t be too bad or all these people wouldn’t be here, leaving as happily as they were. I noticed the strange man staring at me. His eyes were soft, but they pierced like daggers. Before I could think, the door in front of me opened. As if in a trance, I stepped forward, but was stopped by the stranger. “Death,” he whispered in my ear. “It’s not too late to change your mind.” I didn’t have time to feel the fear creeping up on me as I was shoved from behind by an impatient woman. “Come on! Move!” I was pushed through the doorway. The building was pitch black, except for a red lamp sitting on a table in the center of the room. A man stood behind it, and beckoned me. “Come. Tell me what your heart desires.” I approached and squinted past the light, but I couldn’t see his face. His voice was hollow yet enticing. I told him all I wanted and more. When I was finished, I was handed a pen. “Sign your name to receive all you ever wanted.” As I stared down at the book full of names, suspicion finally made its way into my consciousness. “What’s the catch?” A slight shrug moved the shadows. “No catch. All I get in return is your soul.” The pen hovered above the page as my heart rate increased. Sweat broke out on my palms as I mentally weighed my options. How badly did I want wealth? How badly did I want popularity? I sat bolt upright, gasping for breath. “No!” I screamed, not fully aware yet that I was alone in my bedroom. Breathing hard, I stared around at the trash on the floor, the empty beer cans on the nightstand, and the cigarette still smoldering in its tray. I slowly rolled my legs out of bed and sat, trying to sort through my dream, and yet afraid of the conclusion I’d come to. Somehow, my eyes caught the book under my bed. I instinctively pulled it out, not even remembering having put it there. I gazed at my mess then back at the Bible. My mother had said it held all the answers. But I’d ignored her and had sought money and fame. I’d given my soul to the world. I’d sold it in hopes of wealth, but in the end, all I had to show was poverty. A tear escaped and ran down my cheek as I desperately flew through the pages, searching for some relief…some answers. Frantic that I could not find it on my own, I threw myself onto the floor and wept. “Lord,” I cried, “I don’t want this world any more. I want peace and happiness, not money and power. I want my soul to be Yours.” The battle had been won. My soul was free at last, caught up from the clutches of death I had so narrowly escaped. I would never forget that dream. What would you give? Would you be willing to risk your soul for the things of this world? If not, I hope you have accepted Jesus Christ as your Savior. If you would be willing to take the risk, please think again...the world lasts a lifetime...your soul will last an eternity.There are only two routes to choose from - choose the right one. September 27 A God-Driven "180"There was nothing she could do. Carrie stood helplessly by Brad’s hospital bed, listening to the beeps and whirring machines. The doctor had said it wouldn’t be long. Carrie’s tears ran down her cheeks, dripping onto her blouse to make their marks that went unnoticed. Nothing mattered anymore. She was losing all she had. As the hours passed, so did Brad’s life. The confusion muddled Carrie’s thoughts as she pulled her black dress over her head. Her tears were gone now, replaced by a clenched jaw that showed her determination not to allow her emotions to take over. But grief had a hold on her heart and was not letting go. ****** Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. The small apartment became a fortress of anger, the loud music and thick smoke trying to drown out the cries of a hurting soul. Alcohol and drugs became Carrie’s friends and her grief transitioned into periods of blissful forgetfulness as she drifted further away from life itself.****** “It’s Allison again, Carrie. This is the fourth time I’ve called. I know who can help you. Please call me back.”Carrie listened to her best friend’s voice, dully aware of the concern etched in the recorded phone message. What did Allison know? Allison had a wonderful life! She had a house in the country, a great husband, two kids and enough money that she didn’t have to work! How could she possibly know what Carrie needed? But she wouldn’t give up, and Carrie knew it. ****** Carrie stared into her coffee cup, her mind clouded with the noises of the street café.“Did you hear me?” Carrie finally looked up across the table at Allison. “Huh?” Allison sighed, but the care never left her eyes. “I said He loves you, and can make you feel better.” “I feel fine,” Carrie lied. “Besides, what’s he got to offer, other than a bunch of rules anyway?” Allison grinned. “Life, Carrie. A full, wonderful life that can last forever. All these things you’re using…the drugs, alcohol, smoke…they’re all masking your pain, but they’re killing you. He can make you whole again.” Allison scooted the thick book closer to Carrie’s elbow. “Please read this. For me?” Carrie rolled her eyes. She hadn’t touched a Bible since she’d been a kid. What good would it do her now? But if she didn’t read at least part of it, Allison would just keep pestering her. “Okay, fine. But I know this is all rubbish.” ****** The pages wouldn’t turn fast enough for Carrie’s hungry eyes. The more she read, the thirstier she grew for that peace…that life…this man, Jesus. Maybe there was something to Him after all. The words on the thin pages struck Carrie’s heart like nothing before. They pierced her soul, letting in light where none had been for what seemed an eternity.Carrie slowly opened her eyes, still kneeling on the floor, the Bible clutched tightly in her hand. She didn’t know how long she’d been there, but didn’t care. She’d felt the arms of forgiveness. She’d experienced the pure joy shooting through her very being as she’d been lifted from despair. Jesus was real. He was the ultimate Healer, and had cleansed her soul. She was free. Free at last. ****** “That’s how the Lord rescued me…and He’ll rescue you too if you’ll let Him.” Carrie picked up her notes and walked off the stage as several people clapped their appreciation. She took a deep breath and stared up at the poster that had been pinned to the church wall, announcing her arrival. “From Great Despair, to Great Joy.”Carrie grinned at her memories. God had given her a life story for a reason, and now it was up to her to spread it. The story of Jesus working in real lives in real ways wasn’t the Good News…it was the Great News. September 17 I Heard a WalkI sat in the back pew of the church, unable to distinguish my surroundings. I had been brought by a friend, but she had gone to speak with someone else, leaving me alone. Voices and laughter echoed through what I imagined to be a room with a high ceiling, and I sank back in my seat, automatically beginning to search for specific sounds. It had started out as a child’s game, to keep myself entertained at social functions. But it had become more of a retreat - somewhere I could go in my mind to ease the discomfort I felt when in crowds. Analyzing the cluttered sounds, I found the first one I wanted. The hardwood floor made it easy. My hearing pinpointed the footsteps walking quickly past my pew. They were heavy - a man, I thought. The sound was sharp, indicating dress shoes, and the walker strode with a purpose. Perhaps it was the minister. I found a lighter step of a woman close by. Her shoes made an uncomfortable tapping, and I knew they must be high heels. The footsteps paced back and forth in rhythm with a nasal voice, and I wondered if she was the church gossip. A quieter sound caught my attention, and I struggled to concentrate. A child was passing by. The clicking of tiny shoes was almost overpowered by a much stronger step close behind. I imagined a man holding the fingers of his child as the youngster awkwardly went forward, not yet having coordination to walk with confidence. The hurried footsteps of my friend approached, and I felt her sit down next to me. “They’re going to show a video clip,” she whispered as the room quieted. “Do you want me to tell you what’s going on?” I shrugged, not caring. I hadn’t wanted to come in the first place, knowing I would be bored. Now I didn’t even have footsteps to keep myself occupied. I was wrong. I could hear music playing, and suddenly, the sound of soldiers marching overtook the scene in my mind. I listened to them shout and hurl insults at someone. I tried to sort through the noise and understand. Someone was in pain. They were walking - no, trudging. Their agonized groans mixed in with the sounds of spitting and jeering. The labored footsteps were constantly interrupted by a stumble or fall. I pictured a man with a great weight on his shoulders, being forced uphill. The images created in my mind were gruesome. I wanted to close my ears, but a desire to understand won out. “What’s happening?” I whispered to my friend. “They’re showing a movie about Jesus,” she replied. Her voice was strained, etched with emotion. “Jesus?” was my hoarse response. Jesus has always been described to me in the same sentence as peace, love and happiness. This was not a happy scene at all! I was confused. “Why is he letting that man suffer?” I asked. It took a moment for my friend to answer. “No…that man is Jesus.” I was stunned. Suddenly I heard the sound of nails and I realized what was going on. The crowd chanted, “Crucify him!” I was too shocked to cry as the scene continued until a voice quietly, yet boldly proclaimed, “It is finished.” The room became deathly quiet, but I wanted to jump up and ask why Jesus had suffered so much. I had heard He was sinless. Why had He been nailed to a cross? My ears listened with new intrigue as finally the minister answered my questions. But all the sermon did was evoke a gut-wrenching feeling that I should have been the one to take that walk. It should have been me trudging up that dreaded hill. I finally realized the need for a Savior. I had listened to footsteps all my life. It had been a game for when I became bored, and my theories about the walkers were faded and lost. But today…today I had heard a walk that I would never forget. Jesus died for YOU. His suffering was real. His death was real. His resurrection, overcomming sin was real. The rest is up to you.
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